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Sagas
of Vaster Britain: Poems of the Race, the Empire and
the Divinity of Man
by
William Wilfred Campbell
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THE
DREAM DIVINE
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| BEYOND
the wild wrack of her evens,
Earth’s mornings
I trace;
And back of the individual failure and doom,
Looms the hope of the
race.
The
race which stands for God and His ways
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In the mystery of man,
And that tragic web and woof of his dream and
his deed,
Down the centuries’
span.
As
the close, low view of the valley,
Its walls shut in;—
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| So
this cabined vista of life,
With its blindness and
sin:
As
the wide, vast sweep of the mountainward
Opens that glow;—
So the far, vast visions, dim but divine, of
the race
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That Godward go.
Then
sorrow not, doubt not, my soul,
Nor despair that thy
dreams come not true;
They will re-rise and re-build in those hopings
eterne
Of your children anew.
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For the glory of earth is not dead
With the day in the west;
And of all love’s far, dim dawnings of hope
unborn,
God’s latest are
best.
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